Leather & Lace
by LadyGertrude
Summary: A beautiful and mysterious woman is in the basement watching Jedidiah while reflecting on her feelings for him.
1. Chapter 1

**Leather &amp; Lace**

Prologue

_"Jedidiah's Angel."_

I

With eyes gleaming and lips trembling she watched him work. Her cheeks burned through the hollows of her face while she adored him coyly; admiring the hands of an artist from a deep and shadowed distance. She watched his eyes light up and then darken, his tongue running over his bottom lip in fast impatient strokes. Every so often he'd grumble incoherent words just loud enough to be a bare whisper. She only longed for the day she could understand his language. The dream plagued her of if only he would speak. What words would he choose? How would he use them? Would he speak kindly and soft or brash and vulgar? Communication would surely be easier but nothing was deep as a wordless bond. Speech often diminishes the importance of emotion, tainting the beauty of a moment.

A smile pulled at the corner of her lips, so in awe at the creature of a man who was before her hunched over his working table. It was cluttered in a crimson mess of stains and tools. The same colour etched into the deepest corners of his thick fingers, crusted under his nails with dirt. It didn't bother him nor did it bother her. He was a butcher by trade. A simple country man. A family man. His way of life; this was the way he and his family survived. He provided for them and he was good at it. Unbeknownst to him, the brutality of his actions caused people pain and suffering –The people that he butchered and maimed then killed; and ate. Jedidiah had no intention to hurt anyone, not that he knew he was doing that anyhow. He was an instrument of strength for the Sawyer's with no identity for himself other than that of which his family had given him. He only knew that he had put food on the table for his family and protected them at all costs. She loved him so much more for that.

He was different and that was fine, he was so filled with affection. Not evil at all. He was even simple at the best of times, but that didn't matter to her. The two shared a bond so deep without words, without violence, but with an instinctive fire that was so natural. It burned and branded.

Her eyes followed his beefy yet delicate hands wandering across the clutter of tools strewn across the long wooden table, fingering each tool lightly as if deciding what to pick up. Air caught in her throat and his head shot towards her with a growl forming in his chest as if to warn her to be quiet. Sometimes he didn't like her being down there with him. Sometimes he would cease all action on his work, just sitting motionlessly upon her entrance. The look in his eyes clouded with disagreement when she would creep closer to get a better look at him. She loved to watch him for he just amazed her. He filled her to the core with fear, his strength intimidated her. The only thing in the world she was afraid of having and the only thing she was afraid of losing. His love was like a prized and delicate jewel too precious to hold for the consequence of loving him was too much for her heart to take.

She just had to be closer to him, the pull she fought to resist began to hurt- tugging at her chest, her blood heating up inside. She edged towards him, scuffling her tiny feet against the basement floor just to be that little. Bit. Closer.

A diminuendo of creaks from upstairs passed overhead covering the sounds of her slow approach. Jedidiah saw her anyway, and held up his hands shaking his head. His actions yelling, "Stop! You don't want to see this." The shaking of his head was telling her to back away. His hands balled into fists slamming against the table in attempt to ward her away. Jars of hooks and screws quaked against the tabletop next to a partially decapitated corpse lolled its head to the other side. Its limp arms and legs flaying into the air.

"No, Jedidiah please stop. Wait a moment." She soothed and urged him, she could hear his breath catch in his throat followed by a deep grumble.

Their eyes met in the dead silence. She nodded encouragingly. He initially faltered, as if to ask if she was sure she wanted to watch.

"I want to."

He stood up to his full height, holding the gaze as she neared. She wanted to touch him so badly; she ached. Jedidiah still didn't move although she was inches away from him now, staring up at him with green eyes that shone like emerald diamonds underneath the single light bulb that hung down from a wire and scarcely lit the room surrounding.

He stood frozen, drinking in the serenity. She was beautiful, so light and pure. Gold strands of hair shining in the light he had to touch to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Nobody would stand so close to him, not even his own family. Why did she love him so? The thought haunted him alone in bed at night, but then the shudder of his windows would awaken him from those nightmares and she would clamber through the open window in the dark, "I just couldn't stay away." She'd whisper into the night air, just loud enough for him to hear. He'd smile and hold her tight enough so she couldn't run away.

He stroked her hair soothingly, unsure what else to do. He instinctively closed the gap between them, his desire to be close to her overwhelmed him. He whimpered.

She wrapped her arms around him. She didn't dare touch his face, she wouldn't ever dare to go there. Whatever lie under the mask was his secret. He seemed so afraid of showing her beneath the mask, the fear that made him so real. So human.

"Losing you would be my suicide."

Their eyes met; his soul glowing and smiling as her own melted into his as one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Leather &amp; Lace**

_"The Basement."_

II.

The nights grew cold around here, especially around this particular part of Texas. Travis County was an especially unlucky place; with sweltering days and bitter nights accompanied by sudden unpredictable rainfall to momentarily soothe the unbearable drought. Travis County and the surrounding areas, Newt and Bedford were was always, always dry and hadn't been known to be anything but that. The proverbial climate consistently fluctuated between hot and cold, so when the sun had laid itself down to rest the chill would wrap its jaw around the heat and swallow it whole.

Despite the rapid fluctuations day in and day out, the Sawyer's had become accustomed to it and found comfort within their run down farmhouse tucked away off from Route 17. The Sawyer residence was a comfortable place to live where mornings warmed through the windows gently with the sunrise. The living room was cosy in the evenings and everybody would sit together contently in front of the light from the television screen and the sound of peaceful conversation.

As cosy as the house had seemed, there was a cold secret beneath the house. At the bottom of the basement stairs and beyond a small pond-like sized puddle was where evil lived. It was the only part of the house that was always cold and damp no matter the time of day or time of year. Structurally speaking, it was part of the house but there were two, perhaps three steps that separated home from Hell. Time at the bottom of those stairs didn't seem to exist either- like a black hole between space, where the air was always still and metallic. It had seen so much horror, it become death itself.

In this basement, death was the butchers apprentice and Jedidiah was the master.

It was always cold down there, just as everyday felt to _her_ when he wasn't around. Jedidiah was her sun. When the nights were dark, when she was lonely and afraid. Unsure what ghosts were looming behind the shadows, when she needed reassurance or a hand to hold. Her sun was always shining, no matter time of day. When he was gone- presumably downstairs, she felt the lonesome cold surround her and down the basement she'd go and to no surprise, there he was.

She felt warm again. Safe. As much as the haunting darkness of the basement caused unease in the pit of her stomach, the darkness and smell of that subterranean vault was so familiar. After all, this is where Jedidiah spent much of his time. His own scent becoming the musky scent of blood and dust and fear from that dungeon. That very scent she breathed in with desire at the end of a long day, while she'd snuggle closer burrowed in his strong and affectionate embrace. Yes, the darkness was so familiar. She loved it all entirely with fear just because she loved him so, it was overpowering.

Tonight, there was no torture. No other presence existed downstairs apart from Jed himself sitting quietly at a long and cluttered bench. Decaying remains hung limply from hooks overhead and the only sound was the echo of the leaky pipe from the floors aboveground dripping into an ever growing puddle.

After all the years, he had almost perfected his art of mask making. For years and years it was always the same trial and error. The art of murder and providing. The end of one soul's survival the beginning of a new Jedidiah Sawyer. Some days he was Jedidiah and others he liked to be Tommy.

But to her, he was always the same man. He was Jedidiah Sawyer- the same tortured soul who went by the name of Thomas Hewitt as well. He didn't even have to touch her to show her who he was. By his eyes, always the same sad eyes projected a light that shone only for her and she could tell he was smiling behind his favourite old mask, his trademark. Sometimes he wore a different face, but he was never really pleased with it. It was better than the one he was born with though. No matter the amounts of faces he'd make, and pull apart and stitch back together he was always the same man. He wasn't an animal. To her, he was a creature of God. A gift. He was special.

Perhaps with every mask he found and created, he had hoped for a different outcome. Perhaps every time he would put on one of his new masks it didn't change him the way he wanted. Perhaps he hoped to take complete form of the faces he saw as so perfect. Yet, he never saw it on himself. He envied the beautiful people but wondered why their souls were so damaged. So vain they would shriek at the sight of him screaming. Just because he was different? How insulting. Just because he was tall. Just because he was a butcher. Just because he was _him._ Why were they so afraid of him? That made him angry. He wasn't completely bad. Not really…

Jedidiah really wasn't that scary. He liked cartoons, could draw and whistle songs as beautiful as a nightingale. He helped Mama around the house. He did what he was told. He listened to his cousins, his uncles… He did everything right by them but was still kept at arm's length.

_She_ wasn't afraid. She wasn't really afraid of anything. She was wild though, like a cat. He idolized her. A lioness. She was fearless. Strong.

Stronger than him in some ways. She could run faster, jump higher and pounce effortlessly. She even watched him like a hawk almost. Obsessively. Carefully.

He remembered their first encounter. He couldn't even remember how long ago it had to have been now. Perhaps a year? Maybe even two. The household was never the same since the spirit of _Agnes_ had been released upon the farm. She had the ability to create and take life. In one shot.

He momentarily glanced over at her, hoisting herself up on a rickety old table across the other end of the room from him. Not so far in the shadow, but close enough to be a silhouette. It was as though two magnets were trying to fight the overpowering force. He had to feel her near him. Between clicks of the blade in his hand slicing away at the sinewy substance in his hands. He caught her at the corner of his eye just watching him. She was entrancing although she did nothing. He couldn't understand. His heart pounded so loud at the attraction he felt, hoping she couldn't hear his heart beating- _just for her._ He could see her eyes twinkle beneath the single flickering light that produced whatever dull light it had to offer. Her eyes so bright and radiant, he could still see them sparkle. Even in the darkness. Even if he closed his eyes.

Her eyes were what always struck him the most about her. Unlike any he had ever seen. He had been at the mercy cries for many other people, their eyes so demanding and scared. So many eyes he had seen indeed were enough to drive a man crazy. The eyes can tell all.

He remembered when they had first met; she had looked him up and down unable to pull her eyes away. She didn't scream, she didn't look away and if she feared him she had never shown the slightest bit of reaction. Instead she stayed the same. Her eyes lingering upon his, desperate and curious. But not frightened. Not angry. His eyes set upon her in the same remarkable intrigue. The pair had officially met. Anything that may have happened prior to their encounter had ceased all meaning and action for those short moments.

He brushed her off coldly as he decided nothing was going to change. How could she not hate him? He passed her briskly, still staring sideways through the mask. She turned away from him.

She broke his heart for the first time.

But he didn't make it too far.

"Wait."

He paused.

She nodded and smiled.

Freezing momentarily he had offered absolutely no comeback or reaction to her offering of friendliness, he continued on his way and slammed the door below her feet.

She didn't know what to do or say…

**_Clank!_**

The sound of heavy footsteps awakened Jed from his flashback. He smiled to himself again, breaking his train of thought to see her at his side.

_"Baby it's late and I have to go."_ She whispered.

He sighed when he realised how late it had gotten. Sad to let her go for the night he reached for her hand and held it up to his face.

Pulling her hand away she sniffed back a tear, _"I'll come for you tomorrow." _She blew him a kiss and faded into the shadows.

* * *

_**To be continued?**_


End file.
